Second Star to the Right Past Morning
by Stephen Ratliff
Summary: Rear Admiral Archer celebrates his promotion the same way he did the last time, getting drunk and waking up in someone else's living room. A response to the 2007 Summer Lovin' Fic Exchange


**Second Star to the Right Past Morning**

_Author's Note:_

_The following story was written for the Summer Lovin' fic exchange in 2007. It has not been edited since then. I was assigned the pairing of Archer/Sato. Given that I am not exactly known for Enterprise fan fiction, at least at the time, this was a stretch for me. The challenge given to me was to do an Archer/Sato story involving a pina colada and something that occurred before the series. _

* * *

"To Star Fleet's great's Captain, may he find as much adventure behind the desk!" the toast. By tradition, Jonathan Arch was paying for five rounds for this promotion, and every one of his friends were taking advantage of it. By tradition, he didn't pay for his own, nor did he order them for himself.

So far, he'd managed to nurse a single glass ... He knew he wouldn't escape with just that. It hadn't the last time. In fact, it seemed that it was about to start. Captain Fireball Roberts was approaching with a decided swagger.

"I see I have the honor of giving Admiral Archer his first real drink of the evening," he said as he turned to the bartender. "Barkeep, a shot of good Kentucky Bourbon for the Admiral!"

Archer eyed the shot, then drank it to a cheer, in one swallow.

Next up was Captain Seamus McKee, who offered, "Nay, you haven't had a real drink until you've had some good Scottish Whiskey. Barkeep, a shot of scotch for the Admiral!"

After doing the first shot so quickly, Archer was obligated to do the same for the next. He sputtered after doing so. "That's some strong stuff."

"Aye, it is," McKee replied. "But I'd wager that Captain Guthrie is about to try to top me."

"Admiral Archer, here in America we have all sorts of good liquor, as your night after making Captain in Margaritaville would have probably reminded you of, if it wasn't for the fact that you left it so drunk that you probably don't remember them all."

"That's probably the only reason you got me to this bar, Art," Archer replied, putting the last shot glass on the bar.

"True, that and we never showed you the pictures we took," Guthrie said.

"There are pictures?" Archer asked.

"Oh yes, not as good as the ones of Captain Hernandez's promotion party, but it's hard to top a strip tease on top of the bar," Guthrie replied.

"And if those ever get out, Art, I'm coming for you," Captain Erika Hernandez said from back in the crowd of Captains. Her threat was followed by a chorus of ohs, and comments about what might happen to Guthrie.

"Anyway, Jon, tonight I have managed to get a hold of a bottle of Southern Comfort, in honor of your late Chief Engineer, and Captain Hernandez, we're saving a shot for you, as he was yours for a while to," Guthrie said, handing a bottle to the barkeep, who swiftly poured a shot for both Archer and Hernandez.

"To Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker the Third, the best Chief Engineer the fleet ever had!" Archer said, raising the glass.

"Here, Here!" came the chorus of Captains before they drained their glasses. Archer and Hernandez then threw their shot glasses at the base of the bar, breaking them.

That began a round of toasting absent friends as Captain Archer consumed shot after shot.

* * *

Newly promoted Lieutenant Hoshi Sato had planned on sleeping in before heading to Brazil late in the afternoon for her summer session as Professor Sato, professor of Linguistics. She hoped she might even get to spend time with her family, especially Namiko. The call from Captain Hernandez at 0400 hours San Francisco time was not appreciated. Hoshi really knew better, remembering last time. She had drug herself out of bed, wearing only a very short shear nightgown, really the top to a set of pajamas whose bottoms had been lost a long time ago ... could it have been eleven years now?

"Captain Hernandez, please tell me this is not a social call," Sato said, her voice cold.

"Lieutenant, I'm at Captain Morgan's Bar," Captain Hernandez said. "We held Admiral Archer's promotion party with his former fellow Captains last night and none of us knows where he lives so we can have him brought home. T'Pol was unreachable, Lieutenant Reed is apparently getting sea sick with his parents, and that left you as the most senior of his former officers who might know something."

"I'm afraid that the Captain was still staying on the Enterprise last I heard," Sato said, before yawning. "But I can put him up until his hangover is over. After all, I took care of him the last time. I'll be right down."

"I will be here to help you take him home," Hernandez said. "Hernandez out."

* * *

Hoshi's first impression of the Captain Morgan Bar and Grill was not very favorable. The exterior looked like it had been there long enough to have survived the San Francisco Earthquake ... the one in 1906. It's brick facing was literally scorched. She knew it hadn't been there that long, the building had a 2101 cornerstone, and Captain Morgan Bar and Grill had established 2122 under it's name on the sign, but it looked like that.

Inside, the bar looked more like it's 2122 establishment date, chrome lined black topped bar and tables, polished silver chairs with obsidian cast seats ... and over three dozen drunk Star Fleet Captains scattered around the room. It reminded her of a similar scene in Florida eleven years previous.

Blare on a screen at the far end of the bar was what appeared to be some sort of a highlight reel, showing Captain Archer, with a drink in both hands, singing.

"Two pina coladas, one for each hand ..."

His hands rose, indicating each hand, the drink escaping with the movement. Oh yes, the highlight film of that night where she'd been working the bar to pay off her the last of her college debt to the bar owner, only to incur worse when she'd taken that drunk Captain home.

From her left, came Captain Hernandez, who had some sort of thick red concoction that she was sipping. "Oh good, you're here. Admiral Archer is over there." She pointed to the slumped over Captain, who appeared to be in his underwear, forever answering the question, briefs. Hernandez fumbled with one of her pockets. "Oh, and catch." She tossed a data chip to Hoshi, who neatly caught it. "Highlight film, share it with his former crew, but he doesn't get to see it."

"What happened to his uniform?" Hoshi asked. The last time he'd at least kept his clothes on until they reached her room.

"Someone asked for 'I'm too sexy' to be played," Hernandez replied, as if that explained it all. "I'll help you get him back to your quarters, as everyone else here is too DRUNK to do anything." There was a chorus of moans from the back of the bar at Hernandez's proclamation.

* * *

Admiral Archer woke with the biggest hang over he'd had ... well since the night after his last promotion. From the feeling of air across his chest, it didn't appear that he was attired in anymore than his underwear. He did not want to open his eyes. Archer could tell that the sun was already high in the sky and if he did so, the sun would be right in them. So he continued to examine his surroundings with his other senses.

From the seam halfway down his back, and the padded area on his left, it was obvious that he was on a couch. There was a silk sheet over it, and his head was supported by a rather comfortable contour pillow. He could smell food being cooked. He ruled out the traditional bacon and eggs, as well as many of Chef's specialities. Noodles of some sort? Maybe?

He opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. He was directly below a skylight, and it was apparently high noon. He sat up and took in the room. The couch he was on was covered with a red silk sheet, and was seated on a bamboo mat. There was an black stone fireplace, in front of the sofa, with an archway on each side. He could hear the sound of someone slicing something. After a moment he heard a familiar voice practicing her Vulcan.

"Hoshi?" he uttered, not very loudly, but it was loud enough that the slicing and Vulcan muttering stopped.

From around the left archway, Hoshi peeked into her living room, and in a warm tone, replied, "Yes, Jonathan?" From what he could see, she was at least topless.

"How did I get here?" He tried to keep his eyes focused on the face of his former communications officer, but as she walked into the room, revealing her sparsely haired naked body, the intention was a fleeting one.

"Well, I picked you up from the bar, after those pina colades, you were quite a bit out of it, I'll admit," Hoshi said, walking closer, her hips swaying. "The walk here, however, sobered you up enough that I was able to have my wicked way with you on the couch, Jonathan"

Archer's eyes were now firmly on the juncture of Hoshi's legs as she came to a stop. Even with the distraction, however, he retained enough coherence to realize that his eyes could tell that it was not likely that he or anyone else had been in Hoshi recently, or she'd at least cleaned up very well. "Really ..." He placed his feet on the ground.

"Really, and from what I see, I think it's time you did it to me again," Hoshi purred, sliding into his lap. "Take me Jonathan!"

"You know, Hoshi, with all the languages that you know, you could have come up with a better line than what Captain Henandez gave you," Archer replied, placing his arm around her, and moved in for a quick kiss, before pulling away again. "And Erika, you can come out now."

From the other archway, Captain Hernandez of the Columbia walked in, carrying a robe which she tossed to Hoshi, who stood up and put it on. "I never could fool you unless you were drunk, Jonathan."

"I know my crew," Archer said, standing up. "Now if you don't mind, Hoshi, I hope there is something for me to wear today?"

"A uniform in the bathroom," Hoshi said, not bothering to close the robe, as she turned to face Archer, as her clock chimed thirteen.

"I've got to go, Hoshi," Hernandez announced. "Consider that offer of mine ... you're too good to waste on Brazil." And then the Captain swept out of the room, leaving the two former Enterprise crew mates behind.

"Now that she's gone, I believe you have a promise to fill." Hoshi said as she turned to Jonathan. "And I expect it to be as filling as that night eleven years ago, the day after you became Captain."

His briefs were quickly dropped, and the robe was long gone within moments. "That, Hoshi, depends on if you're on the pill, this time."

"How long have you known?" Hoshi said, before being distracted by Jonathan's intimate caress.

The question would remain unanswered that day.


End file.
